


Trying to Forget(On Hiatus)

by Saranghae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dark, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Smut, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8206598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saranghae/pseuds/Saranghae
Summary: Harry has lost so many people in his life, but nothing could ever prepare him for what he was about to lose. Nothing was ever simple for him; the Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. He watches from the stands as his world crumbles around him and he finds his life flashing before his eyes, forcing him to relive every moment. --- Lots of random crack pairings. Flashback fic. Post DH





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Hex Files](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Hex_Files), which was closed for financial and health reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Hex Files collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thehexfiles/profile).

**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**A/N:** _Just to clear up confusion, in this it was Ron who died during the battle, not Fred. Severus, Bellatrix and Remus didn’t die either and Remus is left to raise Teddy on his own._

 

Harry had come to realize that he was very lucky with his ability to avoid death. So many times he’d been faced with it and, even as an infant, he’d managed to slip out of death’s fingers. People had called it his gift. The Boy Who Lived. Harry thought it more a curse. Harry Potter was not allowed to live and have peace. But he was not allowed to die and have peace either. It was rather frustrating.

Harry sits in his bedroom, alone. The bedroom he’d once shared with the love of his life. It was tragic really. Anyone he touched was in danger. The closer he got to them the more danger they were in and the more likely they wouldn’t see more than a couple years before the Potter curse caught up with them. 

Harry had his own personal curse. Charming.

He slides the knife blade between his fingertips and just stares at his face reflected in the metal. It had been Draco’s knife. How fitting, he thinks as he places the edge of the blade to his forearm. 

He stops himself though, thinking. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this right. Nicely, calmly. He didn’t want to make it messy, that would just cause his friends and family more trouble. 

He stands and walks over to his dresser, pulling out the sock drawer and reaching into the back. He pulls out one of Dudley’s old socks that he’d been given as a hand-me-down all those years ago. He pulls the needle and small vile out of the sock and stares at the contents of the glass bottle. It was such a pretty purple/silver colour. 

He goes back to sitting on his bed, not even bothering to close the drawer after dropping the sock back inside. He slides the syringe into the small bottle and loads it up, making sure it’s enough to not only send him into the past, the place he loved the most, but make sure he never came back. 

He puts the needle to his wrist, having done this so many times he doesn’t even really need to look. He knows exactly where to put the needle. He makes sure to empty the entirety of the syringe into his bloodstream before allowing himself to fall backwards onto the bed, eyes rolling back in his head as a small smile plays over his lips. 

The syringe falls out of his hands as his arm slides off the edge of the bed, making a sickening light clattering noise in the sudden eerie silence.


	2. Prologue

**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**A/N:** _I know this may look like Harry/Neville, but trust me, it’s not. Harry’s just making new friends :3_

“I don’t know how he can look so peaceful with everything that’s happened.”

“Yeah, Harry was never one to sleep peacefully, so it’s weird that he start now. I’m glad he’s getting rest though.”

“Quite guys, you’re going to wake him up.”

Too late. Harry’s dorm mates had woken him up the minute they’d walked into the room, but he’d pretended to be asleep, not wanting any more pity or thanks. They both seemed equally as horrible right now.

He’d just lost his best friend. He didn’t know how he was holding himself together around other people, because he would _always_ break down when he was alone. 

He felt the bed slack a little when someone, he guesses Neville, sat down on the edge of his bed. He remained ‘asleep’. He tensed a little when Neville started to card his fingers through Harry’s ruffled hair. Neville stilled the action, noticing Harry’s twitch.

“Harry?” he asked, starting to move his hand again. “Did I wake you?”

Harry hated this. He’d just killed the bloody Dark Lord and people were still walking on egg shells around him, like if they breathed too hard he might break. Fair enough though, he hadn’t taken Ron’s death too well. He’d been screaming so much when that wall had come down that even the noises of the battle had been drowned out. Fred and George had had to drag him away while Percy moved Ron’s body to safety. It had taken him a good 10 minutes to calm down enough to be angry. 

But, Gods, had he been angry. He hadn’t known who had blown up the wall, but he had taken it out on every Death Eater he had seen. He had no regrets killing any more. He’d snapped. That was probably the main reason why people were tip toeing around him again. Because they were scared of him.

Great, Harry thought as he finally gave in to Neville’s soothing hand and soft words, leaning into his touch and moving so he practically had his head on Neville’s lap. He didn’t care that he was acting like a child. 

Neville was a good friend. He was so brave and loyal. It made Harry’s heart ache, knowing that if Neville had died instead of Ron he would have been glad. Not that Neville died, but that Ron was still alive. 

Anyone but Ron.

That was what he had thought when he looked at Ron’s expressionless face after the wall came tumbling down. He could loose anyone but Ron.

Who else did he have to lose? He’d already lost his parents, his godparent and his best friend. Hermione had practically disappeared from his life as well, seeing as how she’d just lost her boyfriend. The boyfriend she’d gotten not ten minutes before it had happened.

He knew he should probably be with her, mourning with her. But he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He knew she was thinking it. Along with all the Weasleys. _Why didn’t you protect him?_

It made Harry want to throw up. 

He stays silent as Neville kept attempting to smooth out his hair, not saying anything. Harry’s grateful for that. He’s grateful for Neville. He seemed to be the only one who was still, sort of, treating Harry the same way to his face. 

Harry realized with sickening clarity that if it wasn’t for Neville then they would all probably be dead. Voldemort would have won. He instantly felt guilt wash over him for even thinking that it would have been better if Ron and him had switched places. 

Now he _did_ put his head on Neville’s lap, grabbing his hand from Harry’s hair and lacing their fingers together. He wrapped his free arm around Neville’s waist and buried his face in Neville’s stomach. 

“Thank you,” he whispered softly before he’s asleep again. He’d been sleeping away his miseries for days. He hadn’t even been out of the common room since he’d killed Voldemort and broken the Elder Wand. He didn’t want to leave. Leaving meant facing reality, and he wasn’t prepared to do that yet.

* * * *

Harry felt safe for the first time in days when he woke up the next morning. He pulled the warm body closer to him and snuggled against its chest. He heard the figure make a small, sleepy noise before Harry had strong arms wrapped around him. He opened one eye at a time, looking up at the boy he was currently clinging to.

It was Neville, and really, Harry wasn’t surprised in the least. He’d fallen asleep with his head on Neville’s lap last night, he doesn’t blame him for wanting to get some sleep himself. 

He smiled softly as Neville beamed down at him, obviously happy that Harry had gotten some sleep. 

“You look better,” he said, pulling Harry even closer and giving him a tight hug before letting him go. 

Harry didn’t want to let Neville go at first, finally having someone solid to hold him to reality was a nice change, but he knew that he had to go down to breakfast. It was so like McGonagall to host a formal breakfast while they were still trying to rebuild the school.

He watched as Neville headed to the bathroom, getting ready for the new day. He sighed and rolled over, pulling his covers over his head and trying desperately to melt into his mattress. 

He had almost heard him. Heard Ron’s disgruntled, G’roff. The routine of all the boys jumping on Ron to wake him up had been set in stone since their first year. To not have that happen every morning... it made this all the more real. 

“Harry?” he heard Dean say quietly. His two other dorm mates had been very hesitant about talking to him since Ron’s death. They didn’t seem to want to upset him more than he already was.

Harry forced himself into a sitting position, stunning Dean and Seamus into silence. Harry climbed out of bed without a word and went into the bathroom after Neville. He seemed to be the only person who was acting normal any more. 

“Neville?” he said softly, his voice whispery from lack of use. “Can I join you?”

It wasn’t uncommon for the boys to share the shower when they were late for something, which happened a lot, but it still seemed to shock Neville enough to immobilize him for a couple seconds before he peeked out from behind the shower curtain at Harry and smiled.

“Of course you can, Harry, glad to see you up.”

Harry stripped quickly and slipped into the shower. He felt a shiver run down his spine at the feeling of the warm water. It felt like it had been ages since he’d last had a nice warm shower. 

He jumped a little when Neville started to wash his back, but relaxed into the touch. He liked this feeling. He’d always liked Neville, but he’d never really paid him much mind. He felt bad for it now, since Neville turned out to be so loyal and brave and supportive. Not to mention he was taking care of Harry. Something no one had dared to even attempt, on pain of a possible hex.

Once they were done their shower, Neville helped Harry dry himself off and get into some clean clothes. It took a lot of work, but Neville finally managed to convince Harry to come down to breakfast. 

Harry let Neville lead him downstairs, Seamus and Dean having already left. They were the only ones from their house still having to show up. When they reached the Great Hall everything seemed to slow down. Everyone stared at him as he entered. It made him want to bolt from the room and hide under his covers again, but Neville’s firm hand on his arm prevented that. 

He led Harry to the Gryffindor table and sat him down between himself and Fred. Harry was very uncomfortable with this arrangement, as he didn’t want to see another Weasley again in his life if he could help it. He was surprised though, when Fred and George, who was sitting beside Fred, started talking to him like nothing had happened. He should have expected that. It was the twins after all. They seemed to accept this sort of thing a lot better than the rest of their family, even though Harry knew they were hurting.

Harry didn’t talk much. He just sat there and listened, smiling occasionally and very aware that he still had every eye on him.

Harry didn’t miss the glance Ginny gives him, a sad smile that said one thing that made Harry’s heart ease a little more. _I don’t blame you_.

Harry gave her a small smile in return and turned his attention back to the twins. He would survive this. He had people he trusted at his side. He always would.

* * * *

Breakfast hadn’t been that bad. People had eventually went about their business and accepted that he wasn’t having a mental breakdown any more. 

He hadn’t been, really, he just... hadn’t wanted to interact with anyone human. That’s not a mental breakdown. Although it sounded an awful lot like he was going psychotic.

When Harry had finally gotten the okay from Neville that he’d been social for long enough he had dashed out of the Great Hall and headed towards the forest. He needed to be alone, outside. Fresh air would do him good.

He kept running until he was deep inside the forest. He sighed with relief. He liked the smell of the forest. 

For all the dangers in the forest and the fact he’d almost died here, Harry didn’t find it that bad. He wasn’t scared of it any more. 

He ran his hand along the trunk of a thick tree, feeling its bark. He felt more in tune with the world now. Near death experiences did that to you he guessed. 

He hadn’t told anyone that Voldemort had indeed killed him that night in the forest. Or even that he had willingly gone after him. He’d only told Hermione and... Ron. 

He took a deep breath and leaned against the tree, sliding down its trunk. He closed his eyes and smiled, listening to the rustle of the wind. He liked this sound. He liked the feeling of the breeze on his face, the leaves beneath his fingers. He’d spent so much time in forests when he was on the run but he never really stopped to... look at them. He never just sat there and listened.

Listening seemed to be useful. He was on his feet and wand out before his mind had even really processed that someone had followed him. Or that there was something behind him. He wasn’t sure if they were after him or not. Gods, he was so on edge.

When the figure came through the trees his immediate reaction was to curse him to hell and back. But he paused. 

It was Draco Malfoy. And he was crying.

Harry blinked, unsure what to do. So he hid. 

He watched as Malfoy stumbled past him, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Harry watched with fascination. It was such a coincidence that he had come this way as well, seeing as it was obvious Malfoy wasn’t looking for him.

Harry tensed and winced softly when Malfoy’s ankle got caught in a root and he went crashing to the ground. He wasn’t sure if he should help the poor boy or not. There was obviously something wrong. But Harry had his own problems, why should he help someone who tried to kill him?

But then again, he’d thought Sirius had been trying to kill him for a whole year, and that turned out to be the farthest from the truth. Malfoy had joined the light side, even if it had been at the last moment to get out of death. They obviously knew that they had chosen the wrong side. 

Harry sighed and walked over to Malfoy, who hadn’t moved from his place on the ground. It was a little pitiful. 

“Malfoy?” Harry said softly, trying not to scare him. He kept his wand in his hand just in case Malfoy got scared and decided to attack him. 

It had been a good thing he did.

Malfoy whipped around and cast a spell at Harry, terror etched on his face. Harry easily blocked it, seeing as he’d been ready for it. When Malfoy saw it was him he tensed even more.

“W-what are you doing following me, Potter?” he hissed, not very menacingly, mind, seeing as he was a sniveling mess right now.

“I wasn’t following you,” Harry said, hand on his hip. “I was out here getting some fresh air when you came bumbling along and got yourself caught. Let me help you up.” He held out his hand but it got slapped away.

“I can get up myself thanks,” Malfoy snapped, forcing himself to his feet and trying to not show it on his face that he’d sprained his ankle, which was obvious seeing as how he wasn’t putting any pressure on it.

Harry sighed and slipped his wand away, kneeling and taking Malfoy’s ankle in his hand, causing the blond to fall back a little and grab hold of a tree to keep from falling over again. 

Harry looked the injury over, pulling Malfoy’s shoe and sock off to examine it further. It was obviously badly sprained. Harry didn’t know any healing spells, but he sure knew a lot about injuries, having lived with Dudley his whole life.

“There’s no way you’re going to make it out of the forest by yourself, Malfoy,” he huffed, getting to his feet after slipping Malfoy’s sock into his shoe. It was bad for him to be wearing them with a sprain that bad. “Let me help you.”

Malfoy seemed rather opposed to the idea, but he loosened up a little when he tried to stand and a visible shock went up his body from the pain. He whimpered pathetically and nodded.

Harry turned around, Malfoy’s shoe in one hand, and knelt so Malfoy could get on his back. 

“Do I have to?” Malfoy asked, grimacing. 

“Would you rather me carry you in my arms?” Harry drawled, rolling his eyes. Malfoy instantly got on his back.

He’s surprisingly light, Harry thought as he straightened up and started towards the castle again. They walked in silence. Harry wanted to say something to break the tension, but what could he say?

“Why were you crying?” he asked before he could stop himself. Knowing Malfoy, that was _not_ the right question to ask.

Malfoy tensed and dug his nails into Harry’s shoulders. He was silent for a while, just not saying anything. He never loosened his grip on Harry’s shoulders though and it was getting a little uncomfortable.

Before Harry could apologize and tell him to stop trying to make him bleed, Malfoy spoke.

“Everyone thinks I’m a coward,” he said, so softly Harry almost missed it. “I mean, I know I’m a coward. I’ve done stupid things and I can never make up for them, but they’re calling me a coward for coming to the light side--the _right_ side--at the last minute. If we’d tried to get away any time sooner we would have been killed.”

He was silent again and Harry let him catch his breath. He knew Malfoy had been scared, that was obvious. This was the first time they’d spoken since the battle, and Harry wasn’t surprised about any of this at all. 

After a long minute Malfoy spoke again. 

“I can live with the taunting, I deserve that, but it’s the death threats. Not to me, but to my family. People think my parents deserve to die, even my mother who’s never really done anything. She just loves my father.”

Harry bit his lip. “Your mother saved my life,” he said softly, effectively stunning Malfoy into silence.

“I went to Voldemort,” he didn’t miss Malfoy’s wince when he said his name, “that night. The night that he brought me back and claimed I’d died. Well, technically I had. I’m not going to explain it to you, because honestly I don’t even really understand it myself. But when he cast that killing curse, I did die. But I was given a choice. I could move on, or I could come back to the hell on earth I was living in. I chose to come back. Voldemort made your mother check if I was really dead. When she found out I was alive she whispered to me, Is my son alive. Well, as far as I knew you were. You were safe in the castle. I said yes. So she told him I was dead. If she had told him I was still alive he would have killed me for good. I owe your mother my life, and in a sense, you my life. Seeing as how it was you that your mother was concerned about.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He hadn’t told that to anyone. It felt good to get it off his chest. He made a mental note to thank Narcissa when he got back to the castle, seeing as how they were helping to rebuild the Hogwarts.

Harry faltered a bit when he felt Malfoy drop his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. Harry stopped and turned his head to look at the young Malfoy. 

He’s crying again, Harry realized with wide eyes. 

He started walking again, just letting Malfoy cry. He felt sorry for him. Him, Harry Potter who was getting the most pity out of anyone in the world, felt sorry for someone who’d tried to kill him. Yeah, he was really going nuts. 

“They won’t tease you any more,” Harry said, making Malfoy look up. “I won’t let them. You don’t deserve that, and neither does your family. Even your good for nothing father.”

To Harry’s surprise, Malfoy laughed. It was slightly shaky and hysterical, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

“Thank you,” Malfoy said, his sentence hanging like he wanted to say something else. It took him a couple seconds, but he finally finished, “Harry.”

Harry almost fell over himself. Had Malfoy just called him by his first name? Wow, Harry sure was finding unlikely friends. 

“You’re welcome, Draco,” he said, a smile curving on his lips. 

Harry realized that that was the most he’d talked in a long time. He hadn’t been that open with anyone for almost months, not even Hermione and Ron.

When the reached the edge of the forest Draco tensed a little, obviously not wanting anyone to see him getting a piggyback ride from the Boy Who Lived. Harry didn’t let him down though, he just kept walking. What better way to show the students that he’d accepted Draco than to walk through the school halls carrying him.

Harry climbed up the school steps and walked into the entrance hall, ignoring the gasps and murmurs from the onlookers. Harry walked swiftly to the hospital wing and opened the doors, dropping Draco on the only empty bed. All the other students lying there who were awake stared in awe as Harry went to get Madam Pomfrey. 

“Draco’s sprained his ankle,” Harry informed her when she reached the bed. She raised an eyebrow at Harry but didn’t question. 

“See you, Draco,” Harry called as he walked out of the hospital wing, hands in his pockets.

He didn't miss Draco's call of, "Bloody wanker!" as the door closed behind him. He chuckled softly and shook his head.

He turned the corner and ran straight into Lucius Malfoy, falling backwards and landing on his ass. Man, he was seeing a lot of Malfoys today.

“Morning,” he said, giving Lucius a nice glare. 

Lucius hummed his acknowledgement before sweeping past him. Harry was about to get up and tell Lucius that Draco was in the hospital wing when he almost got a face full of yet another Malfoy, following behind her husband. 

“Oh,” Narcissa gasped, grabbing Harry’s shoulders so he didn’t go toppling to the ground this time. “Why hello there, Mr. Potter,” she said politely.

Harry smiled up at her. She really was rather beautiful. She looked regal, noble. Nothing at all like her sister Bellatrix. She reminded Harry much more of her other sister, Andromeda.

“I never got a chance to say thank you,” he said after a second of just staring at her and smiling, freaking her out a little. “You saved my life.”

Narcissa smiled sweetly. “I was so glad you weren’t dead, you saved my family as well, so we’re even.”

Harry nodded and tucked his hands into his pockets. “But really, thank you. You didn’t need to do that, and it could have got you and your husband in a great deal of trouble. You’re a brave woman.”

Narcissa flushed and cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I am a Malfoy. We must be brave. To keep up appearances and all,” she said, winking at Harry and walking past him.

Harry whipped around. “Draco’s in the hospital wing,” he called after her, causing her to stop and turn, eyes wide. “Don’t worry, it’s just a sprained ankle, but I thought you should know.” 

She nodded her thanks after a second but didn't move. She just stared at Harry, sizing him up. 

"What?" Harry asked, looking down at himself. 

"You called him Draco," she said softly. "I have not heard a single student here call him by that name since we started rebuilding. I do hope that you two will start to get along now that this whole mess is over."

Harry chuckled nervously. He hoped so too. He didn't much like having Draco as an enemy.

"We'll see," he said, letting a smirk cross his lips. "Only if he's good."

She laughed loudly and shook her head. She bowed her head and made her way into the hospital wing without another word.

Harry smiled and walked back to the Great Hall where people were starting to gather to split up the duties for the day. 

He caught sight of Hermione, but she looked away quickly, flushing darkly with a scowl on her face. He frowned and ignored her, walking straight over to Neville and the twins, shortly joined by Ginny, who hugged Harry tightly and kissed his cheek. 

“Glad to see you better,” she said, beaming. 

Harry smiled down at her and thanked her. He felt a little guilty for the conversation he’d had with her before Ron had died. He wasn’t in love with her, he never would be. She was too much of a sister to him. He was surprised when she agreed, saying she felt the same way. Still, he felt bad.

He watched as Luna came up behind Ginny and hugged her around the waist, her usual spacey smile on her face.

“Good morning, Harry,” she said dreamily like there was nothing wrong at all.

Harry chuckled and smiled back. “Good morning, Luna.”

Neville tapped his arm. “Come on,” he said, jerking his head towards the group going out to help Hagrid rebuild his hut. “Let's go help.” 

They waved goodbye to the group and headed out the door after the others.

"What happened when you went wandering off?" Neville asked as they exited the building. "You seem... happier." 

Harry grinned widely. "I made some new friends," he said simply as they joined the group around Hagrid's half built home.

It felt good to be out of his room. It, somehow, made it easier to forget.


End file.
